


In Pursuit of Power

by VivereLibri



Category: Red Rising Series - Pierce Brown
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Casual Murder, F/M, FIRST I am bad at tags and this is a fic with few canon characters, Family, Politics, Romance I guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2019-09-28 01:31:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17173298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivereLibri/pseuds/VivereLibri
Summary: Sabina au Caelius is from a dying House. No money, no promising contracts, no glory. The only thing House Caelius has is its age and old connections. But those traits are desired by the ArchGovernor of Mars. So Sabina is happy to help her family secure her cousin's marriage, if that means she may get to share some of the benefits.She just doesn't expect Nero au Augustus-- the Last of House Augustus, Lion of Mars, Wife-Killer-- to turn his attention on her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Do I have other projects I should be working on? Yes. Are you wondering what happened with When We Rise? So am I (no, I did not lose a chapter and throw a years-long tantrum, leave me alone). Are you from another fandom, suddenly wondering why I'm writing this when I have my Vesriel spin-off to work on? Sorry.
> 
> I know where this is going. It can be a normal two-parter, and I can add some detail if I want. Very low-stress. It's fine. 
> 
> Red Rising has a lot of detail, so if I missed something or if I got a fact wrong, let me know. Please? I was going to do a reread and fact check but I don't have that kind of time. 
> 
> Bonus points to anyone who knows where Sabina got her name.
> 
> Enjoy!

She really should have been inside by now.

Her mother would be expecting her, and although Sabina was an adult—Peerless Scarred, even—she still felt the yoke of living in her family’s home.

Peerless Scarred, and one of the few in her family. They were proud, like any Gold house, but also old. Old money. Old power. Old connections. The veneer of the past hid the decay within. Inside, the home itself seemed dusty and cloistering and filled with relics. Sabina preferred her private garden on the roof.

“Finish up, Nadia,” Sabina sighed. “You know my mother will throw a fit when I come late.”

“Yes, _domina_ ,” her Pink handmaiden started brushing her hair with purpose, rather than for simple pleasure. “But your beauty will distract her from complaints.”

“Let’s hope.” Sabina snorted. “Quickly now.”

“Yes, _domina._ ” As Nadia worked, Sabina let herself relax into the cushions of her couch. At her feet, a Brown maid finished massaging her feet with oil, gently dabbing off the excess and slipping on elegant sandals.

Sabina moved her feet away. “Not those.” Nadia paused in her work. “Those are my best pair. I’ll wear them tomorrow afternoon.”

“Your mother said she wanted you looking your best,” Nadia said. “I only thought…”

“That’s fine, Nadia.” Sabina waved a hand, an indication to continue. “But tomorrow is the main event. Today is just with members of the House, and my gown is long enough to cover my sandals, no?”

“Yes, _domina_.” Nadia went back to plaiting hair, and new sandals were retrieved.

Two minutes of peace were all she got before Nadia was finished. As always, her work was flawless. The Pink had been her handmaiden ever since she got too old and was determined to be too ugly. But her skills in beauty and flattery made her a decent companion.

A voice whispered that if her family had true wealth, they could have afforded to employ only the best Pinks and Browns, not the refuse of society. But they were not that wealthy, and what little they did have was portioned out by her stingy uncle.

Atilius au Caelius was proud and Peerless. Sabina could not say she resented him. He was a good head for House Caelius, doing the most with what little the House had. Except that he, steeped in tradition, had kept her in their dying house. And something in Sabina would never forgive her family for not letting her go, not letting her try her luck in a better House. Maybe she could have brought some fortune back home or fostered her younger siblings in a new home, exposing them to opportunity as well.

No matter. It was useless to dwell. Sabina was trapped in the narrow halls of her family home.

Deftly, she skirted around Browns and Reds frantically preparing for tomorrow. Most were hauling furniture and decorations to the garden. Though House Caelius was lacking in some areas, its gardens had always been something to behold. It was the best place to host their guest.

As expected, her mother caught her attention as soon as Sabina entered their large banquet room. The hissed “ _Sabina_!” went unnoticed by most except her, whose ears had been trained to recognize the sound her entire life.

“Mother,” she bent her head in deference, the eldest daughter to her burdened mother. Poppaea au Caelius married into the family, a step up for her. And she anticipated a step up for her children as well, taking her role very seriously in helping to strengthen the House. Sabina’s six younger siblings and her mother’s round belly spoke to the fact.

“Where have you been?” None of her ire made itself known in her face, just her tone. Poppaea was very good at making her children bend and break while the rest of the room was none the wiser. “Your uncle started greeting guests minutes ago!”

“My apologies.” Sabina said. She could have blamed Nadia and her servants, but was not in the mood to see them punished. “I’ll accompany them now.”

She wove through the crowd, nodding to those who were too far away to engage in conversation and becoming trapped by the ones who she could not escape. All members of House Caelius, whether by blood or contract. She had known many of these people her entire life. Not many were Peerless, and so she stood out. They all wanted to talk to her, thinking she held her uncle’s ear in some way.

Fair enough. Ever since she had earned her Scar, she had been elevated in her position. Her father gave her some of his tasks in managing the House’s contracts, alliances, and finances. Sabina was also allowed to sit in on the small council meetings her uncle held.

His gaze barely wavered when she slid into the receiving line. Her arrival was no more than a small ripple in a pond.

The only person who seemed to appreciate her appearance was her cousin. “There you are,” Lucretia spared a moment to squeeze her hand and then went back to receiving guests.

Sabina followed suit, pasting a smile on her face as her hand was clasped and compliments were handed out. In a dull moment, she took the chance to whisper to her cousin. “Tia, how late was I?”

“Not unforgivably so,” Tia shrugged. “My father will not care, but your parents might.”

Sabina stifled a sigh. If her mother was irritated enough, she would tell her father, and Otho au Caelius would turn her punishment from disapproval to something more concrete. For the millionth time that day, Sabina wished she was anywhere but stuck at home.

The evening passed as most parties do—despite her melancholy mood earlier in the day, Sabina found herself smiling, laughing, drinking. Since this was a House affair, the rules were a little more relaxed. Children ran around playing, though it was part of Sabina’s job as an elder sister to yank her youngest siblings aside when they got too boisterous.

“I want to go outside,” her younger brother squirmed, though she had a good grip on his arm.

“You can’t go outside, Kaeso, they are setting up for tomorrow.” She said. “Look, the other children are about to start a game.”

“I don’t WANT to play with them!” Kaeso was the youngest, though not for long, and obstinate. Sabina didn’t want to think about how her responsibilities would change to minding him more often once her next sibling was born. But she knew the routine by now.

Swallowing her irritation, Sabina picked him up and propped him on her hip, though at five years old he was growing too big for her to hold like that. “Then stay with me for the rest of the evening. You know you can’t go outside right now. If you do, then you’ll ruin all the hard work we’ve put in. And the garden won’t be a surprise for you tomorrow! Don’t you want to see what it’s like, all pretty and fancy for the ArchGovernor?”

Kaeso frowned, and instead of replying he wrapped an arm around her and rested his head on her shoulder. Tired, then. Sabina caught the attention of a Brown and gestured to the child, and in a minute Kaeso’s nursemaid was taking him away.

Free from one of her burdens, Sabina wandered into the crowd of chattering politicos and gossiping aunts, away from where her troublemaker brothers or testy teenage sister would be. All she needed was to take a couple of steps, pluck a glass of wine from a tray, and she was in the thick of it.

She nodded in thanks to the man who let her into the small circle, her addition going unnoticed.

“Well, of course we’ll have to make some efforts to please the ArchGovernor,” one of her cousins spoke. “He won’t be impressed by some pretty flowers.”

“It’s the only part of the house that is up to his standards,” one of the lancers snorted. He was one of the few Peerless. Loyal to the House, but critical.

A few others grumbled, play-acting at being offended. “I don’t see why he did not summon us to Agea.”

Some agreement. “The ArchGovernor does not need to burden himself with traveling.”

“Why, it’s so he can meet all of you lovely people.” Sabina spoke. The group went silent. “The ArchGovernor knows that if we sent a delegation to him, we’d only be sending the best. If he comes here, he gets to see all of House Caelius. Good and bad. I hope you are on your best behavior tomorrow.”

Another lancer threw back her head, laughing. “You’re right, Sabina. Though, for your cousin’s sake, should we hope that it goes poorly?”

Silence descended again. Not respectful. Not even awkward, but angry. The woman had made a miscalculation.

Sabina tried to smooth things over. “Anyone would be honored to host the ArchGovernor in their home, and it is a blessing that he is even considering Lucretia. She would be happy as his wife.”

The last part was pure fluff. There was no way to know if Tia would be happy. The ArchGovernor’s last wife had ended up beheaded, her head stuffed into a box and sent back to her family. But it seemed that, after some time, ArchGovernor Nero au Augustus was ready to marry again. Not for love, but because he needed the familial connections. When your entire family was killed, it left something to be desired. House Augustus needed to gain strength through blood.

House Caelius didn’t have much money. House Augustus did. House Caelius had connections and a respected name, which would—with luck—bring legitimacy to House Augustus and the ArchGovernor’s children. As far as Sabina knew, her House had not done anything to offend House Augustus. Tia should be safe.

After Sabina’s comment, the group dispersed. They all knew what was happening, though few spoke of it out loud. Arranged marriages weren’t out of the ordinary, but everyone was feeling a little bad for Tia. Her family was sacrificing her to appease a monster. It all went unsaid. The official reason the ArchGovernor was visiting was some made-up diplomatic fluff.

For her part, Tia had been silent on the issue. Sabina had brought it up once, had wheedled her cousin until Tia had snapped. If she was going to speak to anyone about her true feelings, it would not be Sabina.

As she gazed across the room, Sabina couldn’t see a crack in Tia’s exterior. She smiled, she laughed, and she looked perfectly at ease. If Sabina took a step back from the situtation, she could see why Tia would be a good wife to the ArchGovernor. She had plenty of connections and could charm anyone she was not so familiar with. As a Peerless Scarred, she had discipline and ruthlessness drilled into her. Ever since her mother had died, she acted as an effective lady of the house. Tia would surely be able to carve out a position for herself when it came to running the larger Augustus empire.

Yes, her cousin was an eligible woman. One of hundreds on Mars, and thousands in the whole system. What if the ArchGovernor decided that he wanted to forge a closer alliance to those in the Rim or playmakers on Luna?

The fortune of Sabina’s family rested in the hands of one man. And he was not known for his mercy.

“I’m going to retire early,” Poppaea patted her daughter’s shoulder. “Your father will likely linger, but stay to watch your siblings?”

“Yes, mother,” she accepted the kiss on the cheek and watched her mother leave the room, tired in the early stages of her pregnancy. Not two minutes later, Sabina was hauling her twin brothers into the hall, berating them for trying to sneak frogs into the garden. Tired herself, she rounded up the youngest children with the help of Brown servants and sent them all to bed, following herself.

A voice in the back of her head told her that her mother would be upset, that there would be some punishment in store for leaving the party without saying proper goodbyes. But with every passing day, that voice got more and more annoying. Neither of her parents had Scars. They did not know the ordeals and the punishment she had gone through. The only reason their orders were obeyed was because Sabina chose to.

And what else could she do? Her House was dying. Her own connections and talents could only get her so far. Despite it all, she loved her family. She just resented that sometimes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sometimes you just gotta say "it's as good as it's gonna get" and post the chapter
> 
> introducing. the dumbass himself, the heartless, the unknowable, Nero. He is so hard to write.
> 
> Also, I don't know how to write highLingo. Or midLingo. Or whatever the hell Pierce Brown does, so this is an Edwardian tone or something. My bad?
> 
> Big shout outs to everyone on tumblr who liked, reblogged, and showed their interest. You guys have no idea how much it means to me. Bigger shout outs to those who helped me figure out that Nero was in his 90s when he died and had Claudius when he was like, in his 60s. So I guess I need to add "age gap" to the tags. 
> 
> Don't know when the next update will be, but I'll try and make it soon! I've been outlining!

Her gown was new, the jewelry was ancient, and the sandals she wore were the best in her closet. She wore her razor at her waist, wishing she had more time to polish it. Whether Sabina was ready or not, it was time for the garden party.

Breakfast had been raucous in her family’s rooms, as it usually was. The children had picked up on the tension, but instead of being subdued they acted out. The older ones had merely picked at their food, unsure of how to feel. Excitement that the ArchGovernor was visiting them? Sadness because their cousin might move away? Her mother acted like nothing was amiss, her father brooded, and Sabina was adrift.

She felt like there was a pit in her stomach that grew with every passing minute. In the early afternoon, she walked out of her room, down the silent hall. Her mother would take time to get ready, and none of Sabina’s siblings were invited to this party. It was adults only.

She should not have been surprised that her father was in one of the sitting rooms, waiting for her.

“Sit,” he ordered simply, and she obeyed. It was another minute before he spoke. “I will not talk around the subject. The ArchGovernor will bring some of his household. His visit is to see if our House is worth joining with, and his men will be as scrutinizing as he is. I know you will be on your best behavior.”

“Yes, father.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else, then shook his head. “You have your own part in making sure this goes well.” It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but in that moment her mother entered and there was no time for second chances.

They made their way to the landing pad, through the now quiet and spotless halls. When they arrived, Atilius and Tia were already present. Sabina could see Browns waiting in the shade, ready to bring out refreshment as soon as it was called for and not a moment earlier. Other members of the House were scattered around, waiting.

“It is a pleasant day,” Poppaea kissed Tia’s cheek in greeting. “Good for a garden party.”

Sabina saw a look pass between her father and uncle, though she could not discern its meaning. The two men clasped hands, their grips strong and scarred.

Sabina couldn’t resist giving Tia a hug, as if she were already going away. But it was the easiest way to give her cousin strength. “I’m here for whatever you need.” She whispered before stepping back and standing with her family.

“The ArchGovernor’s shuttle is two minutes out,” a Gray commander said sharply.

Atilius nodded in acknowledgment, turning to face the assembled household behind him. For a moment, Sabina thought he would say something. He turned back around without a word.

Specks appeared in the sky, and it grew larger and larger until Sabina could make out the glory of the ArchGovernor’s transport. It was beautiful and sleek, definitely new. House Augustus lived in comfort, but it was a subdued one. A style that said, yes, I live in wealth and I know it. You cannot help but notice, but I do not care. The escort of ripWings was equally as new and sleek, clearly efficient killing machines.

How powerful must you be to live so high above men? Golds were rulers, but this man was a god.

The shuttle touched down with a whisper of wind, the engines whining as it powered down. The ramp descended, allowing a squadron of Grays to jog out, eyes sharp and scanning for any threats. This must have been expected, for she saw no discomfort or irritation on anyone’s face.

Sabina was so busy gawking at the Grays that she almost missed the moment when Nero au Augustus appeared. But the intake of breath from her mother drew her eyes back, and Sabina almost stopped breathing.

He was a harsh man, there was no denying it. Very little patience or joy lived in that face. From his boots to his hair, everything was in place and tailored. His step never once faltered. He possessed the stride of a man who owned the very earth under his boots, or if not, would come to own it soon. She recognized him, of course. But it was entirely different to be confronted with him so close and in her home.

“Atilius au Caelius,” the ArchGovernor spoke with a low voice, one that didn’t need to be raised to be heard.

“ArchGovernor,” Atilius bowed his head slightly. “Welcome to my home. If I may present my family—” The barest of nods from the ArchGovernor, as if this was not a formality that would have occurred anyway. “My only daughter, Lucretia, graduated from the Mars Institute seven years ago. My brother Otho, his wife, Poppaea, and my niece, Sabina. She graduated just two years ago.”

When Nero au Augustus looked at her, she was supposed to bow her head in polite deference. But her gaze lingered for too long, and they met eyes. It was like staring into…well, into the eyes of a lion. Habit and training forced her head down, though Sabina could her blood roaring in her ears. She was grateful that she never blushed, or else there would be splotchy red evidence of her embarrassment all over her face.

“You have impressive daughters,” the ArchGovernor said. “I’m told, Lady Caelius, that you have seven children and another on the way?”

“Yes, my liege,” Poppaea spoke with confidence. “Sabina is my eldest, and we have a son who is sitting the entrance exams to the Institute.” Caius wouldn’t get in. He wasn’t an idiot, but he wasn’t bright enough. Sabina hadn’t say anything though. Better to just let him fail the exam.

She found herself itching for the ArchGovernor’s eye, to catch his attention again. Impressive, he had said. Did that mean he would marry Tia? And if he did, would they deign to take her into their household? Joy was like an electric shock. She had not considered what good Tia’s marriage might do for her personally, but the errant thought stuck in her mind. The chance to be a lancer in House Augustus… or even just an advisor to her cousin, _Lady Augustus_ …

The conversation had moved on, and the ArchGovernor held out an arm for Poppaea. Sabina thought her mother could be uptight at times, but she knew how to hold a conversation and was more charming than most Gold woman. Discipline and charm were probably the proper attributes to display to the ArchGovernor.

“Keep your mind here.” Sabina almost jumped when her father stepped close to her, holding out his arm. She took it obediently, following the procession to the garden. The other members of the household trailed them, along with members of House Augustus and the Grays. In the back, Sabina noticed two Obsidians, lumbering along.

Right. Mind here. Present. Her job would be to entertain the Augustans and play hostess next to her mother. Tia’s job would be to please the ArchGovernor. Her father and uncle would make sure that the well-orchestrated event went off without any problems.

For the first hour, Sabina played her part well. In one shaded corner, her father, uncle, and cousin sat talking with the ArchGovernor. Probably speaking about business, and giving Tia an opportunity to show her intelligence. Occasionally, a member of House Augustus would join the group before pealing off. Poppaea would also check in occasionally, though she preferred fluttering around the party. For her part, Sabina answered questions and tried to keep conversation flowing among guests.

She had just finished a story about her time at the Institute, something banal that got easy laughs, and was feeling pretty good about her performance so far. The lancers of House Augustus looked pleased, at least.

“Tell me, Lady Caelius,” one of them spoke. “How did you fare at the Institute? House Minerva, am I correct?”

“Yes,” she wanted to steer the conversation away from her memories of the Institute, but could find nothing else to say. “Minerva won, if you remember.”

“Indeed.” Another woman said, her gaze like a serpent. “Quite an interesting year.” Sabina locked eyes with her, wondering what she would say next. Not everyone saw the tapes from the Institute. Sabina could tell this woman had, just be the way her eyes shined with something malevolent.

Sabina was saved by someone else speaking up. “Part of a winning House, and yet…”

“Yet?” Sabina asked, daring him to finish the sentence. But her words held no threat.

“Yet you are here. You’re dedication to your family is admirable.” The lancer raised a glass to her, mocking.

Sabina smiled, though the comment stung. “True loyalty is rare these days, is it not? It seems more and more people can be swayed by the sound of some coin.”

That got her polite smiles and little chuckles, though no one really thought the joke funny. Someone brought up a play they saw, and the conversation moved forward. But the barb had not gone unfelt.

Sabina took a break to pour a glass of water for herself when the children were let into the yard. She could see the Brown nurses giving strict instructions on how they were to behave. As she watched Kaeso tear across the lawn, Sabina was sure those instructions were not going to be followed. They would only be allowed out for a while, giving them time to play and enjoy the decorated garden before being presented to the ArchGovernor and led back inside.

Seeing an opportunity, Sabina strode through the party, making a beeline for one of her young cousins. Nona was four, the youngest of the brood, and usually preferred playing in peace and quiet by herself.  She snuck behind the little girl, scooping her up amidst shrieks of laughter.

Within a minute, Sabina was being led deep into the crowded garden, away from the eyes and ears of those she had to impress. Nona wandered until she found clearing with a fountain, deeming it an appropriate spot to play. She ran around, inspecting flowers and bringing those deemed acceptable to her older cousin who sat on the fountain’s edge.

Sabina took a deep breath, letting her lungs fill with the clean, sweet air. They would have to head back in a few minutes, but she would take any break she could get.

It wasn’t talking with people that was the problem. It wasn’t even that it was House Augustus that she was entertaining. It was the scrutinizing looks, the family and the home she belonged to. It was impossible not to feel like every glance was one made in judgement, exhausting to have House Caelius be a name that she was constantly feeling like she had to defend, and heartbreaking that she felt poorly towards her family at all.

Sabina didn’t want more riches or respect or prestige because she was vain. She wanted it because she needed it to be taken seriously in this world. All the intelligence or skill she had  would get her nowhere if there wasn’t something to back it all up. As House Caelius dimmed, so did her prospects.

Tia’s success meant her own, and to help Tia succeed they needed to secure the marriage. Resolved, Sabina stood up and led Nona back to the party. The little girl complained a little, but the wilting posy of flowers in her fists pacified her enough. When they emerged from the gardens, the same flowers were tossed to the ground as Nona ran off, attention diverted to some new amusement.

Sabina lingered on the edges of the party, already longing for the silence of the garden. Another moment to gather herself. That’s all she would take, and then it was time to socialize again.

“Is there some threat I’ve missed?”

She didn’t gape in shock, but it was a close thing. “Sir?”

The ArchGovernor had snuck up beside her, hands behind his back. His gaze was on the rest of the party. “You were scanning the crowd as if there was an enemy in it.”

“Maybe not a singular enemy, but they are all opponents.” Sabina spoke without thinking. It was uncharacteristic of her. But that fierce gaze seemed to strip her down, demand the truth. Even when his eyes weren’t turned to her, she felt the weight of his scrutiny.

The ArchGovernor turned to face her then, an inscrutable expression on his face. “And do you always view conversation partners as opponents?”

“It’s more fun that way.” She deadpanned.

“I’m sure.” Was that a trace of a grin she saw on his face? “I have not yet gotten a chance to stroll through the gardens.”

There was no mistaking what he was asking. “I would be happy to give you the tour.” Without fanfare, Sabina led the ArchGovernor through the garden, occasionally commenting on a fact about some rare flower or the long history of these gardens. The majority of their walk, however, was dominated by silence. Sabina had only ever known a silence that was awkward or relaxed. But this…this was charged. She was waiting for him to say something that was actually relevant, or maybe he was waiting for her. Either way, she was not afraid of what would happen when the stalemate was finally broken.

“How large are the gardens?” He asked as they walked between two hedges that towered above.

“The manicured gardens are about 500 hectares of land.” Sabina recited. “Beyond that are meadows and forests of the estate.”

“May we venture further?”

They had stuck close enough to the party that they could still hear faint music, the chatter of people. But there was nothing stopping them from going farther. “Whatever you like. Just let me know when you would like to head back.”

On they went, occasional meaningless chatter passing between the two. Past high hedges of thick green, through a corridor of weeping willows that caressed their shoulders. The gray gravel path turned to soft earth beneath their feet, and the refined garden turned to something a little wild but no less beautiful.

“Do you spend much time in the gardens?” He asked.

“Only when I ride through to get to the meadows,” she answered, unable to control the small grin at the thought. “The paths make for interesting racing.”

The conversation turned to horses and racing, to recreation and leisure. Sabina was not surprised to learn that the ArchGovernor had little time for things like riding and dancing and camping under the stars. She wondered if he had when he was a child, but considering the childhood he had it was unlikely.

It only took half her mind to keep up with the meaningless conversation, and when there was no more to say they lapsed back into silence. Another five minutes, and they turned around to start back to the party.

Sabina glanced out of the corner of her eye. What was the purpose of this little excursion? They had been gone for some time, yet nothing of consequence had been said. There was no way that the ArchGovernor had simply been interested in looking at the gardens. “I hope our house has been pleasing to you.”

“Do you refer to House Caelius or this estate?”

Her intention had been to ask the veiled question and see how he responded, but Nero au Augustus wouldn’t be tricked that easily. So Sabina took a gamble. “What matters most to you?”

His sidelong look almost made her shrink. “It is not your place to know.”

“It is my House, and therefore it is my place.”

The ArchGovernor grinned, and Sabina saw no malice behind it. “You are very direct.”

“So are you.” Sabina said, confirming his observation.

She was relieved to see that the grin did not fade. “Does that get you in trouble much?”

“When I was younger, it meant punishment,” Sabina found that she spoke easily, her mouth running ahead of her thoughts. “Now, it just means my parents’ disapproval. Those without power are not allowed to be direct.”

“Oh?”

Sabina snuck another glance at him. He was looking back at her, and his eyes seemed to swallow her whole. Her eyes moved back to the path. “ _You_ may be direct and respected for it. I am not.”

“I respect you for it.”

“Yet I am powerless.”

He stopped their stroll. “Are you?” The ArchGovernor reached up, cradling her cheek in his massive hand. Like a lion’s paw, Sabina thought, mind cloudy as he ran a thumb over the scar on her face.

Gravel crunched further down the path, drawing Sabina’s eye. But the ArchGovernor just made one more lazy pass with his thumb before lowering his hand. His fingers brushed her forehead, and she flinched back. It couldn’t have been an accidental touch. “I’m sure the others will be looking for us. We lingered in the gardens for too long. My apologies.”

“No need,” Sabina said, relieved to hear that there was neither weight nor breathlessness in her voice. “There’s a reason we chose to have the party in the garden. I’m sure my uncle will be pleased that you had to opportunity to enjoy it.”

Once they arrived at the party, the ArchGovernor nodded to her then strode away without a second glance. Sabina looked around, suddenly off-kilter. She felt like every eye was on her, and yet no one was looking directly at her. The stupidest thing she could do was just stand there, so she walked forward even though there was no destination in mind.

Her mother intercepted her, though it was not the salvation that Sabina had wanted. “Would you mind escorting me back to our rooms? I’m not feeling too well.”

It was a clear lie to Sabina. “Of course. It must be all the sun. Can I get you some water, mother?”

Poppaea waved her hand in dismissal, and the two women walked arm in arm back inside. Not a word was said until they were safely in their family’s private rooms.

“What did he say to you?” The words were spoken with a venom that took Sabina aback.

She shook her head. “We talked about the garden, about—about horses and…” Sabina saw her mother raise her hand, she saw the anger on the woman’s face, but the vicious slap still stunned her a little.

“Foolish girl.” She hissed. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing!” Though that was a lie. “Mother, all the ArchGovernor wanted was a tour of the garden.”

“And why didn’t he ask your cousin?” Poppaea hissed. “Why did you two go off alone?”

“Really, Mother,” Sabina spoke with ire. “It’s not that important.”

“It is.” She said, and Sabina detected a note of fear in her voice. “For you, for your cousins, for your siblings. Sabina, what do you think will happen if the ArchGovernor prefers you?”

“The arrangement has been made,” she said, though she was now a great deal more hesitant. “Is it really that different which one of us—what am I saying? Mother, _I_ will not marry him.”

“Shut your gorydamn mouth before you say something that gets us all killed.” The strength with which Poppaea gripped her arms would surely leave bruises. “You will do your best to make sure the match between Lucretia and the ArchGovernor is made. Is that clear?”

“That’s what I have been trying to do.” Sabina ripped herself away.

Her mother looked like she wanted to slap her again. “Your efforts so far have been extremely poor. Stay away from the ArchGovernor, Sabina.”

She shook her head, angry that her mother was trying to dictate her actions, that she was being reprimanded for a harmless act, that she just didn’t know what was going on and no one saw fit to tell her. “I don’t—”

“Do not argue with me, Sabina,” Poppaea took her face in her hands, forcing Sabina to look directly at her. “I’m doing this for your own good.”

Her own good? Sabina had been kept in her family’s home, had been denied opportunity, had become burdened as eldest daughters often do. Fury made her slap her mother’s hands away and take a step back. “Maybe you do not know what is best for me.” She spun around, knowing she had to go back to the party but detesting the thought.

“Foolish child,” was the last thing she heard before the door slammed shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a review with your favorite line, character, a typo, or something you're excited for. Let me know if I've made any huge mistakes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Zuko here
> 
> ...
> 
> I have a plan for this fic, I swear

“Do you go to Agea much, Lady Sabina?”

It was the fifth time Sabina had been asked the question that day, the fifth person who wanted to know if she spend time in Agea, what she did, what her opinions were on Octavia au Lune’s latest proposal to the Senate, and what she knew about some scandal or another. She answered more or less the same each time. No, she preferred the southern continents of the planet and the less populated countryside, but if she was in Agea she enjoyed dueling, riding, attending some social clubs, and browsing boutiques. She saw the wisdom in Lune’s politics, but would have personally made some tweaks. And she did not keep up with scandal.

It was a relief when they migrated to the dining room. Sabina left her untouched wine on a side table and walked slowly, observing the group. It was a smaller gathering than the entire retinue that had attended the garden party. The guests had been given some time in the late afternoon to freshen up before dinner, but they had likely been planning and debating their next moves. Sabina found it a little comical; in one of her family’s sitting rooms, she had sat through a strategy meeting too. Everyone knew that there was more plotting and politicking than relaxing happening.

The evening was an opportunity for family to know family. A more intimate affair to not just tease out a possible political alliance but to see if the families actually could tolerate each other. Not that there was actually an Augustus _family_ —just the ArchGovernor’s trusted advisors.

The Politico would be one to watch out for. He wasn’t much, but he was smart. Sabina had to admit that. After a few hours in her home, he likely knew some secrets. That was to be anticipated. Sabina could abide that, as long as none of the secrets he gathered were hers.

Habitually, Sabina scanned the dining room as she entered. The Browns lingering on the edge, waiting to serve. The chattering Golds, and the ones like her who took a moment to take in the new surroundings. Caius and her younger sisters, Accia and Irene, looked a little stupefied in the presence of the ArchGovernor. Accia—proud and stubborn and temperamental—did a better job of hiding her awe. But poor Irene, only 13, was a little more thrown off. Sabina intercepted her youngest sister, guiding her to a seat.

“Best not to speak unless you are spoken to.” She whispered, squeezing the girl’s shoulder.

Irene scowled. “I’m not a child.”

Sabina simply raised an eyebrow, giving her sister a quick once over. Irene flushed, but conceded by looking down into her lap. Satisfied, Sabina took her own seat next to her sister. She was not being cruel. Irene would get through the evening better if she had some help— which included a reminder of her place.

The first course was presented shortly, a soft herbed cheese whipped with a tangy balsamic vinegar, served with strawberries and crusty bread. Sabina resisted the urge to pick out all the sweet berries, only eating about half her portion before stopping. Were she in Agea or any of the other cities of Mars, she would allow herself to consume a three-fourths of the plate. But Poppaea had different standards for her daughters.

Around Sabina, the conversation ebbed and flowed. She only kept half an ear open. Nothing of consequence was being said. The Politico, Pliny, jabbered on. Her father kept him engaged, with an occasional comment from someone else. Short conversations bloomed along the table, and if they had been more interesting Sabina would have joined in.

But there was nothing important being said, and Sabina had to carefully cultivate her strategy. If she introduced a topic, if she led a conversation, then she would garner attention. And though she was feeling irritated with her mother, she would rather not incur Poppaea’s wrath. Being silent and incompetent was not in her nature. But it could not hurt anyone, so Sabina sat.

She was not the only silent one. Sabina could count the number of times the ArchGovernor had spoken on one hand.

The first course was taken away, replaced by a bowl with two poached quail eggs swimming in a clear broth. The clink of spoons, the low chatter of guests complimenting the food—it all grated on her. Sabina’s eyes dragged across the table, wondering if anyone else was as bored as she was.

Her eyes met the weighted state of the ArchGovernor. He didn’t even try to hide the fact that he had been looking at her. Instead of looking away, as she should have, Sabina’s head tilted just a little. _What do you see?_ She asked. _I can rise to your challenge._

Something changed around his eyes, but it was not enough to be called a smile or even a hint of one. He broke his gaze, and Sabina thought that was that.

“Lord Caelius, are you planning on sending your daughter or niece to the Academy?” The ArchGovernor’s voice carried over the table, stilling the other conversations.

Attilius proceeded carefully. “Not at the moment, no. The girls have not shown much interest.”

“I see.” The ArchGovernor nodded. “Do the halls of the Senate on Luna call more to you?” Though Tia was closer, the question was directed towards Sabina.

She could not refuse to answer without being unforgivably rude. “I’m sure there is much to learn on Luna, and I am always drawn to new knowledge. As my uncle said, I do not yet have a strong interest in politics or war-making.”

The nod from the ArchGovernor didn’t indicated approval or dismissal. “It is true that Luna offers much, as does the Academy. Though in Agea, you could learn both.” The table tittered at the subtle jab towards Luna. A tiny moon of Politicos, not like hardened Golds of Mars who were equally adept in war and peace.

“Sabina would do very well in Agea,” Poppaea said. “You are right, my liege. There is plenty of opportunity for her there.” The opportunity her mother was thinking of was not the same as the ArchGovernor probably had in mind. She was probably thinking of marriages, her forte. Though Sabina knew her parents cared for each other, she also had an inkling that part of the reason for the match was because of how good Poppaea had been at arranging the marriage herself. Her mother was a Bronzie turned varnished Gold, a woman who had married up farther that normal. It was expected she arranged the same for her children, all to funnel more wealth and connections to the flailing House Caelius. By the time her youngest siblings were grown, they would have all the prestige and money they needed to obtain sponsorships and high positions in society.

It was a good strategy, but Sabina did not like to feel used. She would rather have gone to the Academy and learned how to destroy planets.

The conversation flowed on. Sabina ate both quail eggs and most of the broth, and then the dish was replaced with fish sitting on a perfectly cylindrical bed of risotto. She ate most of that too.

Just as she determined that this evening would be uneventful for her, her teeth scraped against something. A fishbone. The ramifications swirled in her mind. If they did not have guests, she would have spat out the bone and demanded a new plate. Sabina nearly did it, raising a hand halfway to her mouth. But she couldn’t do that here—she couldn’t show the ArchGovernor that their Brown cooks didn’t even know how to prepare a fish properly.

But what if there were bones in the other dishes? Did a cook just make one small mistake once, or was it a pattern? Sabina did not want to draw attention to the incident. Yet still, there was a fishbone in her mouth. It was hair thin. She resumed her chewing, determined to pulverize it into dust and swallow.

Her pause had not gone unnoticed, nor had her aborted movement.

“Are you alright, Lady Sabina?” The ArchGovernor addressed her by name for the first time.

She swallowed, pasting a pleasant smile on her face. “Perfectly fine.”

“I see.” He said. “I had wondered if you had encountered a fishbone. I myself have picked out several. I hope your Browns aren’t targeting me directly.”

In another circle it could be a joke, but here her mother was falling over herself to apologize, ensure that the cooks would be punished, calling for a new plate. The ArchGovernor waved a hand, and all the plates were taken away and replaced with a crisp salad.

She should have said something. She should have had her plate taken away, someone would have made a comment, and she would have replied that the entire staff had been working so hard, they were so loyal they overworked themselves sometimes, and the family should really look into bringing on some new Browns. A poor excuse, but it was still something. But she didn’t say any of that, and now her family looked foolish.

As the dinner dragged on, Sabina saw exactly how much effort and money had gone into making this visit a success. Fresh salads, meats smothered with too-rich sauces, food that was meant to be seen more than tasted. Yet with every new delicacy, she felt more and more uneasy. Her family was fielding questions, on defense as the Augustans poked and prodded.

She snuck a glance towards the ArchGovernor. He was watching as the table debated the rise of some minor family who had gotten rich quickly through a risky investment. Her father was saying that the House wouldn’t last, that new money meant nothing without a name. Pliny, the Politico, was arguing that money can buy influence and respect.

Again, when the ArchGovernor spoke, the table quieted. “The answer, in my view, is neither that money buys respect or a name holds it. A family must have both, and that comes through action and prudent decisions. Is that not why we are here today?”

“My liege?” Her mother asked.

“You need the respect and money of my House.” He said. “Is that not why you are entertaining me?”

Sabina watched as her family sat dumbfounded, aghast that the ArchGovernor would explicitly bring up the thing they all knew but didn’t dare to speak. She was reminded of what she thought when she first saw him today. He was really was like a god, and gods didn’t need to say anything than what they meant.

“It would be an honor to host the ArchGovernor, no matter the reason.” Sabina spoke up. “Personally, I value the opportunity to dine with new companions and such fine food.”

Pliny laughed, too enthusiastic to be real. “Do you not dine like this every night, Lady Sabina?”

She raised an eyebrow, trying to keep her expression cool. He was a Politico, she was a Peerless Scarred. “Well, we aren’t Pixies, my goodman.”

It did not salvage the night, but it did make her feel better.

Tia swooped in then, two minutes too late. But she artfully turned the conversation to something innocuous, and it stayed there for the rest of the evening. When dinner was over they moved to a parlor, entertained by more conversation, drinks, games. Some of the young men took bottles of liquor out into the garden, dragging Caius with them. Sabina watched them leave, but did not move to interfere. They had treated Caius well enough, from what she saw. And if that changed, then Caius would have to learn to defend himself.

Her mother, seeing the group leave, seemed to have a spark of inspiration. “My liege, I know that Sabina showed you the gardens this afternoon, but they really are something to see at night with the lamps lit, and I do not believe she took you in the greenhouses.” Sabina moved discretely to the edge of the room, giving her mother an excuse not to see her. “Where is she? She spends so much time outside, I wonder if she knows more about the fauna planted this season than the motions introduced on Luna. Never mind, then. Tia, would you escort the ArchGovernor? I’d do it myself, but…” But no one expected a pregnant woman to be on her feet after a long day. But Tia was the one that was supposed to be marrying the ArchGovernor. But here was a good excuse, and Poppaea au Caelius got to show off her matchmaking. It was obtuse, but got the job done.

Sabina edged around the sides of the room, slipping out as some Augustus lancers argued among themselves about whether or not they should accompany the ArchGovernor. No one was paying attention to her. At least, she assumed they weren’t. But as the door closed behind her, she glanced back. She met the ArchGovernor’s arresting stare. Then the door swung shut between them, and Sabina retreated to her room.

The halls were mostly empty, which thankfully left enough room for all of Sabina’s emotion. Her heart galloped in her chest and her fingers twitched with the need to do something. Eclipsing the restlessness was annoyance. One glance—that was all it took for the ArchGovernor to get into her head.

She wanted to understand how he could do that, how he always spoke with such confidence. How was it that he came into her home, insulted her family, and yet they were the ones who had to scramble to apologize? Part of her was in awe. The other, more sensible part, was a little disgusted with the amount of power he wielded.

Sabina nearly slammed her bedroom door shut, striding into her room and ripping off her clothes. Nadia wordlessly collected the shoes, the dress, the bracelets that fell to the floor. “A bath, _domina_?”

“I would like to be left alone for the rest of the evening.” Sabina ordered. “Help me undress for the night and then you are dismissed.”

“Yes, _domina_ ,” Nadia nodded, scurrying around the room. She handed Sabina a robe and nightgown, then went back to her closet to put away her evening clothes. Sitting at her vanity, Sabina carefully wiped off her makeup. A moment later, Nadia reappeared with a warm, damp towel and carefully arranged it on her face. “Two minutes at least, _domina_.” Sabina sat under the towel until Nadia came back with creams and serums, diligently applying them before taking her leave.

When the room was silent, Sabina tried to settle in with a book. But her nightly routine failed to settle her, and that persistent restless need to do something remained. She checked the time. Late enough for the young children to be in bed, for the adults to be retiring, for the young lancers to be still frolicking in the garden.

And where would Tia be? Sabina was hit with the sudden need to see her cousin. But would she have retired with the older group, or stayed with the younger crowd? Sabina puzzled over the question. If she married the ArchGovernor, Tia wouldn’t quite fit in with that group. She had never been in battle or fallen in an Iron Rain, she could not share the same stories and wouldn’t know the same gossip. Yet neither could she be free with those her own age, not as Lady Augustus. What a depressing fate.

Sabina stood, slow to realize that her cousin would be neither in the garden nor in her bed. She took back passages and servant’s halls to get to the kitchen. Tia sat on a high stool next to a counter, spooning something delectably cheesy into her mouth.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come,” Tia said, hand over her mouth as she chewed. She held up another fork, and Sabina joined her at the counter.

“I was worried you were too old for this, _Lady Augustus_ ” Sabina teased.

“Shh!” Tia slapped her arm, glancing around as Sabina giggled. “You can’t say that.”

“Is it not decided?” Sabina restrained from rolling her eyes. “Are you not expecting a proposal tomorrow? Or did the ArchGovernor propose in the garden? It actually is quite romantic, I have to give my mother credit for arranging that.”

“I don’t think the ArchGovernor does anything romantic, Sabina.” Tia’s mouth curled into a sardonic smile. “But I don’t think he is as calculating as we thought he might be.”

“Really?” Sabina frowned. She was willing to concede that her opinion may be biased as a Martian, but the general consensus amongst respected Gold society was that the ArchGovernor of Mars was peerless—and not just because he was Scarred. He had the potential to stand as high as Octavia au Lune or Lorn au Arcos—universally respected, often feared, living legends. Foolish people did not gain that sort of reputation.

Tia shrugged. “I don’t mean that he is not intelligent. That much is clear. But…I don’t think he was as concerned about intelligence, if that makes sense?” She shook her head, playing with her food. “He asked me questions about myself. About my experience at the Institute, what I did in my free time…and of course I had answers. I am not ashamed of anything I said or how I presented myself. But I wasn’t expecting it. He focused so much more on my personality, not what I could do as his wife.”

Sabina hummed, contemplating. She speared a piece of the cheesy pasta, popping some in her mouth. “Is there artichoke in this?” Tia nodded at her question. Sabina took another bite. “Mother would never let us eat this normally.” She chewed slowly, trying to think of something to say. “Maybe it’s a good thing he wants a life partner, not just someone who is a good political match.”

“Is it a good thing?” Tia asked.

“As long as he’s not like Dido and Romulus.” Sabina said. Silence descended, and Sabina shuddered a little. War for love. Half the Sovereign’s attention seemed to be consumed by that catastrophe. She shook her head, bringing her thoughts back to Mars. “It can’t be anything but good for a husband and wife to be friends. What did you feel when you talked with him?”

Tia set down her fork and stood. She would not meet Sabina’s eyes. “Nothing. I didn’t feel a gorydamn thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review if you enjoyed the fic! Tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, if there was a quote that stood out, or even a typo.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @thehaemanthus (this is where Red Rising stuff happens) or @weavemeamyrtlecrown (this is where everything else happens). 
> 
> Also, I have been vegetarian my entire life and know very little about fish bones. I am well aware that leaving fishbones in is a hazard, but like. Fic reasons. Let's just gloss over that, unless someone has another suggestion.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoooo so this is has one of the first scenes I ever wrote for this fic, back when I thought it could be a short two-parter or something. I'm not completely at peace and pleased with it, but here it is. Can't sit on it for longer, otherwise it would never get published.

The sunroom was Sabina’s favorite part of her family’s wing. It was on par with being outdoors itself, allowing her to soak in the sun and enjoy the sight of the blooming garden without being accosted by bugs or sweating like a Red.

In the summer, it was the perfect place to go early in the morning. Before anyone else stirred and when she was still half awake herself, Sabina tiptoed through the halls with a book. The sun was lazy in its ascent, and Sabina was equally as slow in the morning. The book was one she had read before, and she lazily flipped through her favorite sections.

A soft knock interrupted her solitude. “ _Domina_? The ArchGovernor to see you.” A Brown servant poked his head from behind the door.

Sabina frowned. “Send him in.” She stood, sparing a moment to straighten herself and feel thankful that she had thought to throw a robe over her nightwear.

The ArchGovernor entered, glancing at her before walking towards the windows. “You can see the sea from here.”

“It’s one of the best views from the house,” Sabina said, a little stunned at his entrance. Unlike her, he was fully dressed for the day.

“It is stunning.” The raw admiration in his face softened her a little. The ArchGovernor was all harsh lines and uncompromising stares, but he looked out at her favorite view in her favorite room with approval.

Sabina stepped closer to him. “Is there anything you need?”

“No, nothing in particular,” he said.

“It is rather early to be seeking out your hostess.” Sabina said.

The ArchGovernor nodded. “I desired your company, and it was fortunate that you were already awake.”

“How did you know I would be awake?”

It seemed like a lifetime before he spoke. “You are only two years out of the Institute. It takes much longer than that to be at peace. To sleep in after the sun rises.”

Sabina could feel the muscles in her face stiffen as she put herself on guard again. She didn’t like how he made assumptions, and she didn’t like how he was almost right. “And how long did it take for you to sleep through the night?”

“Oh, I am much too busy,” The ArchGovernor waved a hand, looking back outside with a smile—or at least the tiniest quirk of his mouth that Sabina had taken to calling a smile. “I sleep late and rise early.”

“Very well.” Sabina sighed. “So you desired company this early in the morning. Why search out _my_ company?” She made a show of looking around the room. “Why come without guards or your lancers?”

“I don’t think you pose a threat to me, my lady.” The ArchGovernor smirked. “Not in broad daylight, at least.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she didn’t. The ArchGovernor would lose patience and tell her why he really came here, or he would languish in silence like her. Either way, she would not let her morning be ruined.

“I can provide company, but I am afraid I will not be much for conversation.” She returned to her couch and cracked open her book. “But if you do require anything, please, let me know.” She may have been too saccharine in her tone, but if she was, the ArchGovernor showed no reaction.

He gazed outside for a while, watching the sunrise. Sabina glanced up every so often. It’s not that she wanted to. It wasn’t even that she felt all that uncomfortable with him there. But it was impossible to look away.

“Aquinas.”

Sabina felt her heart jump a little, but she hoped she was composed enough as she looked up. “Pardon?”

He looked as startled as she felt, as if he hadn’t meant to say anything. “You’re reading Thomas Aquinas.”

“I am.” She raised her eyebrows. “Very observant.” If he was going to say foolish things, then she would treat him like a fool.

The ArchGovernor stood with his hands behind his back, still gazing out. “You rise early to read a physical book by a great philosopher, all of your own volition.”

“If you had a room like this, I’d wager you would as well.” He could very well have a room like this one, in one of his many houses.

“You love your house very much,” The ArchGovernor finally turned his face to her.

Sabina’s jaw slacked as if to speak, but then she paused and studied him. He turned to her. He was looking right at her, waiting to measure her answer. “You can’t pull the same trick on me as I tried to do with you.” She closed her book with finality, setting it on the couch and rising. The ArchGovernor wasn’t here for the pleasure of her company. He wanted something from her, and she was not going to simply hand it over. She crossed her arms, staring him down.

“It appears I cannot.” The last thing Sabina expected to see on his face was approval, but there it was. Miniscule like all his other expressions, but Sabina saw it. “My observation holds true. You love your family and this house by the sea.”

“I do.” And because he had been so candid, because he had not been afraid of saying what he was thinking, Sabina followed his lead. “They have their shortcomings, but I mean it when I say there are few families better to marry into.”

“Careful, Sabina,” The ArchGovernor said. “A lesser man might ask you the names of those families.”

“You are not a lesser man.” Sabina shrugged one shoulder. “And I would be a lesser woman if I did not know that. More than that, I’d be an idiot. You are Nero au Augustus, not some pissant who scrapped through the Institute.”

The ArchGovernor nodded a little, that now familiar not-smile on his face. “I did mean it when I said that you and your cousin were impressive young woman. I must extend the compliment again, if only for your candor.”

Sabina bowed her head a little. “Thank you. May I request the same candor from you? Why are you here, ArchGovernor?”

He stared at her for a while, but Sabina knew she could wait him out. Finally, he nodded to himself. “I’ll get straight to the point then. While ties between my family and House Caelius could be stronger, the purpose of the trip was known by all. We are not here to discuss visiting each other’s houses or contracts or business. I came to meet your family, and most importantly your cousin, Lucretia. You understand, all the background work has already been done. I saw her tapes at the Institute, I read about her test results, the company she keeps, what she has been doing since her graduation. A team of Greens even computed a compatibility score, and Yellows assured me we would have healthy children. All that was left was to see if we could get along, and we did.”

Sabina followed along, but the more he talked to more she felt a sinking in her gut. He wouldn’t be explaining this to her if there wasn’t a catch.

“Lucretia would be a good wife and fit into House Augustus. But she’s not you.”

Sabina stiffened, taking a step back. “My liege, please.” The arrangement was between Lucretia and the ArchGovernor. It had already been made.

“I am not a fickle man, Sabina.” The ArchGovernor didn’t look ruffled at all. Meanwhile, Sabina felt like a boat being tossed at sea. “You did not catch my eye because of beauty or mere wit. You showed yourself to be more capable than your cousin. I had those Yellows and Greens conduct the same tests last night. We are _more_ compatible.”

“You base your proposal off of some formulas?” She wanted to quip something else, maybe _how romantic_ , but couldn’t quite get the words out.

“I base it on the fact that we are of a similar mind and both here right now, that I managed to stand your company for longer than most, that you’ve shown an independence and strength that Lucretia has not. I don’t need any good Gold wife. I need one that will recognize what being one of the very few who has the name Augustus will actually mean.”

He was another caliber of Gold, and he wanted that in a wife. And he thought he had that in Sabina. By Jupiter, she was going to be sick.

“I suppose I haven’t asked the question.” His hands remained behind his back, and he couldn’t even muster a full smile. “Will you marry me, Sabina au Caelius?”

He was serious. He was deadly serious and looking her in the eye and Sabina had to answer. She was shaking her head before she knew it. “I will not.”

The ArchGovernor’s face did not change, though he did lean forward a little, intrigued. “If it is about your family, I am sure they will have no objection.”

“You do flatter me with the proposal.” Sabina said. All of the grace and candor and wit he said she possessed five minutes ago seem to have fled. “But I have to decline.”

“You will not have me, then?”

“I will not.” She expected her voice to shake, but was relieved when it was merely uninterested, uncaring.

“Why?”

“I do not owe you an explanation.” A crack in her voice and her façade.

“Nevertheless, I demand one.” The ArchGovernor took what he wanted even if he did not deserve it.

Fine then. He could have what he wanted, and Sabina would give him everything he deserved. “Why would I take you as a husband?”

“Plenty of people seem to have found reasons why their daughters should.”

Sabina ground her teeth. Proud and shameless, to the last. She hated this man. She could not help but want to know him and where he got his outlandish ideas. “Yes, there are plenty of people who would sacrifice their daughters.”

“Sacrifice?” The ArchGovernor raised an eyebrow. He spoke in small expressions, never exposing more than he wanted his adversary to know. She hated it. She wanted to study him more. “To have all the power and wealth on Mars?”

“To live every day in fear.” Sabina finally said it, tired of the verbal sparring of the past few days, the dance he always seemed to have the upper hand in. “To share a life with a cruel man and know that a misstep may mean your head being sent home in a box.”

He did not speak. He didn’t even look shocked, just unimpressed. Sabina hated herself in that moment, almost as much as she detested him. Her killing blow was nothing to him.

“Your naïve thoughts can be excused by your age. But I must admit, I expected more from you.” It stung in more ways than one. Sabina did not want to be called naïve, and she did not want him to know her well enough to make any statements or expectations about her character. “Do you think I killed Iona au Bellona in a fit of rage? That my moves were not calculated? I had been planning from the day my own family was slaughtered. The Bellona thought to keep one innocent alive, to be merciful. And I showed them how strong innocence was in the end.”

Disgust filled Sabina. He had killed the poor girl, his bride, not despite her innocence but _because_ of it. “How can you expect me to marry a monster like that?” Her voice cracked on the last word.

He cocked his head, observing like she was a puzzle to figure out. “I think you are as interested in me as repelled. I think living in this family has made you soft, but there is an iron core at the center of your heart. You can see yourself as my wife, can understand why I do the things I do, and that thrills you as much as it horrifies. I think the tears in your eyes are not of sorrow or fear, but confusion. You want this. You want to see what my kind of power feels like. I think you are afraid.”

“Get out.”

He took a single step back, as if giving her time to disagree. “You know I am right.”

“I will not marry you. Get out.”

“As you wish.” He said. “I will leave for now, but I am will not give up pursuing you.”

“Then you will need to give me a better reason to say yes.” She did care that she was admitting defeat, that there was a truth in his words. “I am more than a woman who desires power. I demand more from life. If you want me, you will give me everything I deserve.”

“And what does that entail?” Instead of victory, there was an eagerness in his stare. She was another challenge, just something else to be conquered.

And just like that, the power flipped. “You seem convinced that you know me. Figure it out yourself.” And Sabina left the room, feeling more confident than when she had entered but in a much more dangerous place. Did she just start a game, one with an opponent that had been playing for much longer and never lost? 

No, something told her. The game had been going on for far longer. It was her fault that she couldn’t see it. No matter. There would be no more mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are sitting here wondering "BUT WAIT Sabina thinks it's wrong for ANYONE to want to marry Nero, why is she letting her cousin do it?" I know!! I know, I'm fixing it, there's an explanation! 
> 
> Pls review and tell me where I messed up.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, please leave a review and let me know what your favorite line was, what you want to see, if you like a specific character, if there's a typo etc. It makes me day!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @thehaemanthus or @weavemeamyrtlecrown


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